A Journey Down Memory Lane
by MusicKeeper
Summary: How and when did the Twelfth Doctor get that lovely red guitar of his? Clara ponders the memory as she listens to him play. (A gift story for katierosefun. Sorry I'm late!)


**'ello, peoples of the earth!**

 **It seems fitting that writing fanfiction would be the first thing I do on my new laptop! It's also rather convenient that I should be writing for Doctor Who - I haven't posted for this fandom in a while.**

 **A gift for a friend who was feeling a little down this Christmas. Hope she - and everyone else - enjoys!**

* * *

Clara stared, mouth agape, at the shiny red guitar in front of her. "I couldn't," she gasped.

Behind her, Neal Schon grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Sure you can," he said. He smoothly stepped in front of Clara and picked up the guitar from the stand. "It'll sound funny since it's not plugged in, but that's not a huge deal."

"What if I drop it?" Clara worried.

"Then it's my own fault for letting you hold it." Neal shrugged carelessly. "Besides, I don't think you will. You seem like the careful sort to me, unlike Bowtie Boy over there."

"Oi!" The Doctor sprang up from his spot on the nearby couch, hands already on his bowtie. "First of all, bowties are cool, and second of all, I can be very careful!" He strode over to Neal and Clara, sidestepping a small table and another guitar stand. He knocked over the stand as he passed; Clara thanked her lucky stars it hadn't held another guitar. "I can be extremely careful! So fanatically careful that I refuse to let Clara out of my sight if I know there are dangerous aliens lurking about!"

Neal quirked an eyebrow. Clara giggled.

The Doctor was not pleased with this reaction. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, Doctor," Clara teased. "Just the fact that you will never be that careful in all your life."

"OI!"

This time, Neal and Clara ignored him as they turned their attention back to the guitar. "It's even got a strap, see?" Neal tried to reassure Clara. He put the strap over his head and released the guitar, proving to her that the strap would support the body of the instrument. "You'll be fine."

"Come on, Clara, live a little!" the Doctor interjected. Putting his hands on Clara's shoulders, he shook her a little. "How often do you get to play Neal Schon's guitar, Clara? Think of it!"

"I am thinking of it, Doctor," Clara protested blandly. "I'm thinking how much I'd have to pay if I damaged it. I don't even know how to play."

"Then we'll teach you!" The Doctor seemed quite eager to carry out this idea. "Yes, this is brilliant!"

While the Doctor rambled on and played with his bowtie, Neal shook his head. "Quite a man, that one is," he remarked. "But he is right. We can teach you how to play. Come on, it's not hard."

With that, Neal led Clara over to the couch, where he sat her down and handed her the guitar. "There you go," he said, pleased. "Don't be shy now."

With some hesitation, Clara gently plucked at a string. Neal was right; the guitar _did_ sound funny when it was not plugged in. Instead of the full sound Clara had heard from the guitar on stage and on the records she had at home, the string released a tinny sort of noise when it was plucked. Confused, Clara plucked a different string and got the same result.

The sound of the tinny strings had caught the Doctor's attention. "Ooh, that does sound funny," he complained, scrunching up his face. His sonic was out and pointed at the guitar within seconds, and the next time Clara plucked the string, it released the full sound she recognized.

Neal laughed. "If that's what it sounds like when it's out of the amp, I don't want to know what it sounds like when it's plugged in," he chuckled.

Clara's eyes widened in disbelief. "You see, Doctor? This is exactly what I was afraid would happen!" she scolded him.

At least the Doctor had the decency to look ashamed. For about three point six seconds, that is. "I can get you a new one! From New Earth! Ooh, I ought to get you a music disc from New Earth. I think you'd like the sort of music that—"

"Doctor, that really won't be necessary," Neal interrupted. Surprisingly enough, the Doctor stayed still long enough to listen. "I have other guitars. Perhaps you and Clara should keep this one."

Clara immediately objected and began to hand the guitar back to Neal. "No, no, no, we couldn't possibly keep it," she tried to convince him. "Besides –"

"I insist."

That shut Clara up. The Doctor looked rather pleased with this turn of events.

Cheering from outside the room reached their ears. A man in black jeans and a black top poked his head into the room. "Neal, we need you out there in five," he said.

Neal grinned and grabbed another guitar, this one white. "I'll be right there," he replied gleefully, running his hand through his hair once again. Turning to the Doctor and Clara, he asked, "How do I look?"

"Fantastic," Clara said.

"Like you've just been thoroughly kissed," the Doctor remarked. At a pointed look from Clara, he tried to backtrack. "In a good way, I mean! You've got that bad boy … thing … going on."

"He means you look great," Clara spoke for him, struggling not to facepalm.

"Perfect," said Neal, with a quick look back at the Doctor. "Bring her back sometime for that guitar lesson, Doctor. Sorry we couldn't do it this time, Clara."

"Wouldn't miss it," the Doctor replied.

Neal shot a pointed glance at Clara. "Don't even _think_ about leaving that guitar in this room, Clara. I expect not to see it when I get back."

Against her better judgment, Clara nodded. "You won't."

Neal's eyes brightened. "See you both around, I hope!" With that, he left the room, whistling "Don't Stop Believin'" as he went.

The Doctor pulled Clara up from the couch. "Come along, Impossible Girl. Now I want to listen to one of those New Earth jazz records I have lying around somewhere." He stopped to think for a minute. "Did I leave those in the galley or a storage closet?"

"Doctor," Clara said as the tweed-clad man dragged her and the new guitar out of the room toward the garage where he'd parked the TARDIS.

"Hmm?"

"I still want to learn how to play this."

The Doctor turned to look at her, his grin threatening to consume his face. "Which song do you want to learn first?"

"'Separate Ways.'"

"Then I will teach you how to play 'Separate Ways.'" He paused, his right eye twitching as he thought. "First you need to help me find those records. That's going to bother me now until I find them."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll find your CDs, then you help me. Cool?"

"Cool as a bowtie." The Doctor turned back toward the TARDIS.

Clara just had to correct him on that one as she jogged to keep up with him. "The saying is 'cool as a cucumber,' Chin Boy!"

* * *

"You know, you never taught me to play that Journey song," Clara observed as she watched the Doctor finger the red guitar Neal Schon had given them when he still wore tweed, suspenders, and a bowtie. She recognized the riff he was playing, the riff from "Don't Stop Believin'."

The Doctor stopped for a minute. "No, I guess I didn't."

Clara was surprised when the silver-haired man in front of her didn't begin playing again. Instead, he brought himself and the guitar up to the second level of the console room, where Clara sat watching him. Then he took off the strap and handed the guitar to her. "Put this on. Today, my Clara, you will learn how to play 'Separate Ways.' Here, let me see your hand..."

And thus Clara learned to play the guitar.

* * *

 **And a little bit of the Twelfth Doctor for y'all.**

 **If you liked it, hated it, or wanted to light it up and watch it burn, review and let me know! I hope everybody had a very merry Christmas this year! :)**


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